


bloodbound

by marzana



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst, Blood, Dark Romance, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Halloween, Horror, Mild Gore, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzana/pseuds/marzana
Summary: she seals it with a kiss.(a halloween fic)
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	bloodbound

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this is an idea that hasn’t stopped bothering me this past week. was going to be a one-shot but im impatient and i keep getting ideas... anyway, this fic is tagged appropriately. this is... kinda dark. it barely constitutes as horror, but whatever. 
> 
> also, why isn’t dark romance an official tag?? 
> 
> i hope you enjoy! writing this out was an experience. i hope you’re all having a safe october, as the veil continues to thin...
> 
> 🥀🌕🖤🎃🔮

Crystal clear, the stars bleed down from the bright night sky, falling, falling, falling from ages ago into the present, not her present but his, this is her past — his tan skin fading into the color of the full moon overhead. Black hair dripping down like and with the deep red of what becomes him.

Her chest heavy, iron in water, water that could scald with the richness of its color, watching as it floods over into her lungs. His body depletes itself from his very heart and her heart watches it go by.

That's the sound of it breaking, its shards pounding so hard against her ribs and in her ears. It hits her dizzy. Eyes swimming. Choking on the sight of her everything bleeding out.

The wind blows. The grass rustles. The night goes. Peaceful. For one last night. For one last night.

" _No,"_ it pours quiet off her lips, down her face, _this isn't it._ " _No."_

And his name, it doesn't sound _real_ with the way it comes out, tainted by fear and mangled with regret, _regret_ that she is useless and praying, speaking, saying:

" _Don't go,"_ voice cracked, she sees through where it's cut. The veil thins, she sees where he begins to burn out into it, the dark shine of his blood pooling onto the ground below him.

If she listens close enough — the sound of the Earth's heartbeat, thick and steady. Slow and reverberating. And _oh,_ beyond that.

 _Oh,_ that's her heartbeat becoming one, it's so fast that it _stopped_ and _oh—_

The sound of his.

Stilled.

Rivers in winter, cloudless skies, the dead stars hanging by the lifeless moon, her soul after it shatters.

Gone.

Her mind, sense. Her life. His. Everything they've had.

All.

 _Who struck you_. Not even a question. Not a plea. _Who took you away from me._ It's not the words in her head, it's what her empty body rings, hollowed and echoing.

_Who ended our life. Before it got to begin._

It's the numbness, an inherent, visceral denial that shakes her for the longest moment. Seconds that morph into days. She tries to change what she's seeing, tries to change it into his sleeping face by the fire, close to her, always.

But the heady copper smell coats the inside of her nostrils and the lining of her throat, the air she does not _deserve_ to breathe, and she gags, body folding forward as it heaves. But there's nothing but acid and saliva, she's out of everything. Out of the sun, the night is still fresh and wrong — _why is he human?_

The moon mocks her. It's done nothing for her. She hates its light. _Hates_ how it shines down on the deep, deep, _deep_ gash above his heart, and no, she doesn't see it. She doesn't see, _can't see,_ he'll come back.

 _He always does,_ but the moon is cruel and it laughs down on her, whitening her vision.

Has a red ever been this _red?_

She grabs her own throat, squeezing needlessly. Like it'd let her join him.

She'll die by his side. There's no other _way._ Her teeth cut down hard on the insides of her mouth, and she tastes the wounds, hot and fresh, let's the blood fill the spaces between each tooth, grinding down. She doesn't know she's crying until the tears mix in, salty and ice cold from her bitterness and the breeze kissing her cheeks, rusting and infecting his wounds. Her stomach turns _hard_ and she falls forward.

Forehead pressed to his. She _loves_ him. With such _conviction_ and reverence, with all of the lives she has _ever lived._ Each and every second she ever has, it falls out of her in glass tears, dripping onto his beautiful face as her wretched sobs carry all the things she didn't get to floats over him and then the silence sinks into her skin, makes her bones rattle and creak as she gives in, wants to settle into the black behind her eyelids, wants to follow him wherever he goes — maybe it's better. _Maybe it's better._

It's his name she's whining, keening like a ghost, oh how _much_ she'd rather be one. _Let me die._ She failed him. _Let me die with him._ His name again, so loud that she drowns it out. _Let me die by his side._

The wetness from his gaping wounds spreads onto her shirt, the smell so close to her face that she heaves, face falling into the crook of his neck. Her arms flop weakly by either side of his head. She can't keep herself up anymore. There's no reason to. If she wants it enough, she'll stop breathing, too.

A cold spark shoots up her back— less of a shiver and more of an electric current, shocking her more delirious, gasping for air. Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, her blood and saliva trickling down as she gags again, her whole entire being lurching forward as another _zing_ rips through her like fangs snapping each and every nerve of her spine, only to amplify, to reach mountains, to draw her up stiff like a puppet on strings, and then she _knows._

Nature quiets. The Earth holds its breath. Only the single beat of her pulse drums among the sheer silence. And like a child that does not require a _thought_ to take in air, she _knows._

It's her lifetimes past, something ancient and undeniable. Her aura grows with the pump of her pulse, so devastatingly _pure_ in the line of death. So holy like the language that slips off her tongue, not one she's ever learned, but one that she _knows._

And she knows what to do. It's not a question, no hesitation. No chance to fail.

She cannot succumb just yet.

The visions flood her mind's eye. Hands with veins so stark and bulging, a reminder of her soul's age. She's seen it all. She belongs in this moment; she sees it now. There is nothing else to.

With stained fingertips, with a life she's shared with the most divine— she takes the single arrow that's left of hers. The head pierces her palm with her violently trembling hold.

And in the mess of tongues, she holds out her arm and utters all she desires.

" _Come back to me."_

The slice is quick but serrated as she drags the arrowhead from the wedge between her fingers, down the center of her palm, down her wrist and her vein as she splits herself open.

" _Come back to me."_

Her pain comes in whimpers and lost cries, in tears that pour like oceans from her eyes. She slices her other arm and drops the arrow, too far removed to retch at the sight of her seperated skin.

" _Come back to me."_

She fists her bloodied hands and tilts her arms over him, watching the rose red of her veins drip onto his face, his lips, his neck. Watches as the drops sink into his clothes and roll down to his perfect, perfect heart.

" _Come back to me._ "

Her vision begins to spot. Something's missing. This is necessary, but not enough to complete the spell. She needs something more. Something they both feel, something that _aches_ and—

" _Come back to me."_

Her muscles burn. Her bones do almost nothing to hold her up. It's not her moving. It's not her that has the strength left, it's who she used to be, still pulling the words out of her blue lips and shrunken lungs, who strings her hand over to her painted arrow, who holds it finely.

Who holds the sharpest point to her heart.

" _Come back to me."_

She's pushed forward, pierced straight through and then pulled out, blood pouring out of the puncture with a lavender light.

She wipes purple fingers over the hole in her heart. Saturates her lips. Coats his in the rawest part of her. Her greatest romance. Her undying love.

And with nothing but faith. She falls forward. Lips on top of his as she says her final words.

"Come _back_ to me, _Inuyasha."_

She seals it with a kiss.

* * *

her lips

lillied waters,

risen roses

in the autumn

of longing;

if they share this grave,

he'll rest here

peacefully.

if this is his grave,

she can do

as she pleases.

one kiss,

his first

sweet

breath.

with the Gods as witness,

she brings

him back

to life.

* * *

Through her lashes, the first thing she sees is amber eyes glistening like gold in the sunlight. Little specks of rainbows reflect through the waking tears at her waterline.

With a gentle hand, he brushes her hair back, the pads of his fingers so soothing on her skin that she hums. "Hey," he says in that sweet, deep voice of his, so adoring and tender.

She smiles softly. "Hi."

He chuckles as she turns in his arms and rests her face in the crook of his arm. His nails run like ribbons through her hair before he begins to smooth his hand over her side, over and over. "Still sleepy?"

"Mhm," she mumbles weakly, tucking her arms between them.

"Comfortable?"

" _Mhm,_ " she sighs, nodding off again as she takes in his warmth. It washes over her, envelopes her like nothing _else._

Then he cups her face with his palm, thumb running over her cheek, and she can't help the dopey smile that spreads by it.

"Sleep as much as you need, Kagome," he says in a hush, rocking her slowly back to sleep. "I'll be here. I'll always be here."

"Mmm…"

He runs his knuckles under her chin, shushing her. He's a _lullaby._ Giving her sweet dreams and endless peace.

For some reason, it takes this long.

" _Inuyasha!"_ she gasps, clutching at his chest the _instant_ she sits up, nearly knocking him back.

Before she can start clawing at her own chest, he's back in center and taking her wrists in his hand. " _Shh,_ Kagom—"

"YOU _DIED!"_

The images flood right back and drown her in its guts, and she struggles to _break free,_ the panic so _thick_ and cold, spreading in shockwaves from the center out, her pulse so heavy and _quick_ that it beats in her teeth and eyes. Even her hair feels like it's shaking, her scalp itching with the energy, tongue buzzing and prickling with the sudden weight.

" _You DIED."_ It comes out _ugly,_ wretched, _shrill._ "I saw you _DIE!"_

She wants to _breathe_. She wants to _go,_ but he has her, anchoring her to him without much effort. He crosses his arms over her, holds the back of her neck and stares her down until her eyes settle on something for longer than a millisecond.

She doesn't expect his nips at her jaw, and it takes her right back, _somehow._

_Somehow._

" _Kagome,"_ he says, firm but gentle, just like his fingers around the back of her neck. "Everything is _okay._ "

A sea of glass coats her vision. She holds the crest before it crashes down, before she chokes on her own tears and takes him down with them. Her chin wobbles. " _Inuyasha…"_ she whines, sounding every _bit_ like a helpless child.

Even though he's giving her his _serious_ look and she can barely see it, the smile he can't fight shines through. And when he says it, the tides hit the shore.

"You _saved_ me, Kagome."

And that's all it ever took. All that ever mattered.

It was _real._

She cries so hard that there's no noise. That her body nearly breaks in half with the sheer power of her grief, her absolute _relief_. If she could crush him even closer to her, could make their ribs connect so they'd never be a part, by the Gods above, she _would._

She would. If anyone's listening, she _would._

She doesn't mean to sink her nails into his skin, but she does, she does so she won't slip and fall off the precipice, head swinging and mind reeling. He only closes himself around her and sways her from side to side, arm wrapped around her head so that not even the sun can see her, and nuzzles his nose into her cheek.

"You saved me," he whispers, lips like petals on her skin. "Thank you, Kagome. Thank you."

" _Inuyasha…"_ she sighs wretchedly.

She runs herself dry, wrings her guts of everything they're made of. She depletes herself in his arms. When he pulls slightly away, she _whimpers_ and jumps across his lap, needing him back where he was.

"Hey, it's okay," he soothes. "I'm just getting something. I won't leave, I promise."

It's not that she doesn't trust him, it's that she doesn't trust destiny and whatever it has lurking in the corner. She clings to his robe, tries to hide in it. Can't she just hide with him forever?

He shifts his arm until her head rests on his shoulder and brings a bottle to her mouth. "Drink some water," he tells her, brushing the tip of his nose in her hair for just a second.

And just because he told her so nicely, so full of concern that it's warm in her, and also because she's lost all the water in her body — she sips it slowly, letting it fill her parched mouth. She takes her time drinking it all.

He drags her bag closer and tucks the empty bottle inside. It's a good thing they had it.

" _Thank you_ ," she croaks, hiding her face in his neck.

"You feeling better?"

She sighs a shaking sigh. "I think so."

He runs his hand down her back and she welcomes the tingles that come with it.

"Just relax," he says, rubbing now.

She mewls against his skin. "Inu…"

He tucks her hair behind her ear. "Hmm?"

"I…" but the words are lost on her. She only stretches out her arms, and he chuckles.

"Wanna try getting up?"

"Mhm," she nods, eyes still shut.

She doesn't even tense a single muscle. She lets him bring her to her feet and keep her standing, arm tight around her waist. Her head lolls back and he catches it, keeping her face lifted to the sunlight. She revels in its thousand kaleidoscope kisses on her pale skin.

She feels his smile on the corner of her jaw. "Feel good?"

" _Yes,"_ she mouths as his lips ghost along her cheek until his own rests on hers.

"There's a spring nearby," he says, pressing his palm between her shoulder blades.

She blinks her bleary eyes open. "Yeah?" Oh, how nice it sounds right now…

"Yeah. If you want, we can go clean up. Whenever you're ready."

She cranes her neck and takes in his softened, handsome face. "Can we?" she grins.

"Of course, Kagome," he says, dropping his hold to her lower back. "Can you stand on your own?"

With wobbling knees, like a newborn deer, she manages. But only once her hand laces with his. Her strength. "Let's go."

He grabs her bag and swings it over his shoulder before he begins to lead the way, his fingers enclosed between hers like wax seals on love letters. How he looks at her along the way are the poems enveloped inside.

When they come across strawberry bushes, she takes an extra cloth from her bag and collects the tiny hearts inside. When they come across apple trees, she takes the brightest red, crisp and shining.

And when they come by the water, she doesn't think twice to undress. When he blushes and turns away, she laughs. "It's okay, Inuyasha," she giggles, shimmying out of her skirt.

With a face as red as the apple, he unties his hakama and she exposes herself to him. Physically, so that he knows if it's _him_ , she'll expose even the rawest nerve. That she wants to feel his love and let it fill the emptiness in her soul that's the shape of him.

As she dips into the spring, finding it to be a comfortable temperature, she takes in the scenery — how the greenery is lush and the trees branch over and surround them, the sunlight spotting through the leaves and pouring like the waterfall that rushes on the other side of the pool. It's a world they can hide in, that keeps them safe from the storm that rides through her heart.

She holds her breath and goes under, listens to the cycle of life there. How it matches the steady pace of her pulse.

When she comes back up, she's in his arms, legs draped over his lap as he sits in the shallow end, face flushed but grip strong. Her palms rest upon his chest. Her forehead rests upon his.

On top of him, she wiggles, a smile stretching her wet lips. She swats his nose lightly with a single finger, only to have him blink in confusion.

"Bad boy," she mocks, scrunching her nose before tapping his again.

He bares his teeth and bites at her finger, to which she punishes him again. "Bad boy!"

But when she goes for it again — oh, he's got her good, his fangs one wrong move away from tearing her skin. She giggles, trying to wriggle free. But before she can scold him again, there's a shine of guilt in his gaze, and then he's licking at the slight indents he left, ears flicking once he finishes.

She wraps her arms tight around his neck, fingers carding through his hair and squeezing lightly, feeling the stir of his hips as her chest crushes to his. Behind him, she reaches for the tied cloth full of fruit and opens it up, taking the apple and bringing it between their lips.

With locked eyes, he holds it from the bottom and they sink their teeth into either side, feeling the juice run and drip down their chins. It feels odd, so primal, so familiar — they tear at the flesh and take their time eating it to the core, bodies melded together like cooled syrup and melted gold.

He licks his lips and she copies the movement, wanting to share everything she ever can with him. Without breaking her sight away, she reaches for a handful of strawberries, picking them from the stem and feeding them to him. She licks its blood off the corner of his mouth after her hand empties, feeling his arms fill the arch of her back as she nibbles at his chin. He shakes her off and nibbles at her nose instead, drawing a laugh light as cat bells out of her.

" _Bad boy,"_ she says again, voice dripping with joy as his teeth scrape down the side of her neck.

A love for _alive_ sprouts in the deepest part of her belly, seeds ablaze and rising into an inferno that cleanses her spirit into butterflies, drifting over them and flying free, and she is as liberated as them, so _bound_ to him by mind, body, and soul — in death and lives and afterlives, in his mouth on her skin and his hands on her breasts, lifting them with dangerous eyes burning her to stardust.

She looks down at him, his hands soft on her chest and gentle because he knows he makes her malleable. A noise escapes their throats and then his tongue reaches the underside of her breast, licking up the shape and then back down again, nipping at the softness. She breathes his name.

His lips rumble with his amusement, and they wrap around her nipple, sucking deep and tender, lapping gently at it, his teeth running along all her edges before licking at her other breast. He toys with her, draws out the most desperate moans and gives her the same noises back.

And he does it all, slow. Careful. Thoughtful. From one to the other, and then in the center, where he buries his face and squeezes her breasts in both hands, finding places she's never been touched before _him._ The space between her ribs, spread and carved like the wings of butterflies, where he inhales her and never lets the breath go.

She runs her nails across his chest, pulls his head back with his face cupped in her palms so she can move — so she can drift off of him and bite his neck like a teething puppy, trying to growl the same way he does when he's grumpy or hungry, and his laugh is deep coming from his chest. She splays her fingers on his stomach and pushes him up to the edge, to which he complies because she's just not strong enough, and she feels him watch her as she bites at his pecs, kisses his heart. Drags her lips down his stomach and then to the hair between his legs. She grabs the tops of his thighs, brushes her mouth along the bass of him and shivers when he does, though she's the only one of them smirking.

" _Kagome,"_ he says, voice strained and gravelly, hand around the base of her skull.

She kisses the part of his belly that's right below the button. " _Mm?"_

Is he gonna ask her why she's doing this? It should be obvious by now.

_I love you._

But what he actually does is pull her up and wrap her legs around his middle, one hand grabbing her thigh and the other kneading her bottom, nails scraping the skin there and spreading her open as he slips his hand behind and underneath her. He cups her fully, holds her like she's _precious_ and kisses her neck wet, hot, open-mouthed as he slowly eases them back down.

And _oh,_ her head's rolled back, her eyes too — she moans words that don't exist and savors how he breaks and heals her simultaneously, in the same measure, inexplicably, wholly.

But then he bites her too hard and she _yelps,_ his laugh mean but intoxicating. But she still finds the strength to pout, to wiggle free and climb out by his shoulder, walking on hands and knees because she's not planning on standing up, not _really_ , and—

" _Where are you going?"_

It's the growl that's sunburns and fireworks and fresh lighters from her center and throughout, and she has almost no time to shake her hips, barely any time to look over her shoulder and smile before he's grabbing her by the teeth and leaving marks on the tender skin of her bottom. He bites down to the backs of her thighs and the insides of them. Crosses over the part of her that's been crafted to fit him, pink and beating with the hard rhythm of her heart. Still, she can't help but _laugh_ as he continues to gnaw on her.

Until — until his _kiss._

His _kiss_ like roses and summer breezes, his hands tight around her hips, pressing the most _gorgeous_ kiss on the essence of her and she cries and _collapses._

" _Inuyasha,"_ she moans, all she can do, because even when he draws back, she still feels the electric touch.

And then he kisses her again. Again. Again. Softer each time, whispers at night, nuzzles into her because she's his.

She grabs one of his hands, tugs at it weakly. Whines until he crawls out of the water and fits his body over hers, her back to his chest, his mouth at her shoulder and then dragging down her spine.

He wraps an arm around her stomach and pulls her up, and she only fights it with a moan. He kisses her cheek before gently reaching down and floating her in the water.

"Wait," he says softly.

Her whine is cut off by the sight of him walking to the bushes surrounding them. She hadn't seen all the flowers there, all roses and lilies, rainbow colors of devotion.

And with his beautiful hands, so kind and strong, he encases her silhouette in the flowers of forever, white as blinding sun and fresh snow, red as the licks of a fire and his passion, dripping down, _blood._

It's a haze. Looking at him is a dream. She hadn't thought so, with the way he held her. She feels him over her, underneath her, inside. He lifts her by her back and the back of her neck, kisses down the line of her throat, down between her breasts and ribs, her stomach and then the space between her thighs, tucking his face in there and breathing in for all they're ever worth.

His mouth on her ankle once he lifts it, upon her instep, thumb rubbing the sole of her foot. There's a languidness to his movements that strikes her sudden.

And when she opens her eyes. Lifts her wet head as her hair hangs heavy behind.

It's the disbelief. The sorrow.

His hair melting into black. His eyes darkening, the day fading.

The tears from his shoulder, ripping him open, his heart brokenly still where she can see through.

Her blood trailing down her breast.

Magnetism. They belong together in every plane.

It's heaven.

They become spaceless.

Her voice carried in the air, the last breath of her lungs before they tangle into one.

" _Come back to me, Inuyasha."_

They seal it with a kiss.

* * *

for each

of his

senses,

for all

that makes

him;

hate and

supplication,

both:

there lies

a memory,

woven like

a song.

the sweetest fruit,

the flower

that blossoms,

that lets him

belong.

for her,

he'd give up

all.

* * *

Through half-lidded eyes, they watch one another come to, lips still pressed together like bruised hearts and rose petals, too.

Her body's both sticky and slick with dead and fresh blood, blood, _blood,_ all this godforsaken _blood_ that she must have swallowed when she came back from… _from…_

Then she's taking in his face, shaking, desperate, _pleading._ She wheezes. "' _Yasha—"_

"' _eah,"_ he rasps. Nods weakly, his fingers pulling at the back of her shirt as she lays on top of him.

He was there. They were _there._ They felt it all. _Together._

They got lost in what they thought was Earth. Forgetting to remember, to question it, to feel for their wounds.

She _sobs_ wetly as she lifts herself up, afraid to look but _needing_ to.

She called upon every chain of her entire existence. To save him. To save _them._

" _Oh,"_ she cries. " _Inuyasha."_

Because his name is the only thing that kept making sense.

But all she can see is blackened cloth and crusted-over skin.

A heart sealed inside. She grabs at her chest, growls half-heartedly but still so _wrecked_ and tears her shirt over her heart, forces the fabric to unstick and rubs over the bone of her breast, scratches at the _blood_ that's rusted there. She doesn't peel her eyes away from his, _never_ when they look this haunted.

She unfolds her weak, weak arms. Holds them out by his sides. The scrape of his nails over her thighs, so unsteady that it breaks her even more.

Dried rivers of her blood. No ragged incisions in sight.

"' _gome,"_ he heaves.

She collapses, wrapping her arms around his head, storms pouring out of her eyes. She'll protect him. Shield him from even the sun.

"Was it Heaven?" he whispers hoarsely. And it's a question she answers with the sound that comes from sadness rising above the lump in your throat.

Because Heaven would just be them. Still alive. Still where they travelled and found more than they could have ever imagined.

Together. Forever. At peace. Allowed to rest.

Was it so bad?

"Did we have to come back?" she says, so thoughtless, almost delirious, and she _knows_ its —

He tucks his arm around her. "Yes."

" _We—_ " she chokes on her sob, sputters, " _di-i-ied!"_

And that could be her own falling on him, but there's a tear that rolls down his face, and then another. Another. "I wanted to stay," and he says it so quiet that she almost misses it, if she hadn't stopped for the second he does she wouldn't have even registered the movement of his mouth.

But it's what he says. And they feel it both. She feels his pain, and it amplifies her own, and it throbs outside of them, runs them in circles down a line.

But then he realizes that she heard — his eyes go wide, frantic. "But you _saved_ me."

She smoothes her breath over for the moment it takes her to speak. "I was ready to die with you, Inuyasha."

Sad. "And you did."

Her body racks with the weight of their emotions. " _I did_." As unbelieving and accepting. She trembles violently. Curls into him. " _Inuyasha."_

"Kagome," he speaks tender.

"I'd _die_ for you," she exhales, pained — "a _thousand_ times over."

And there's nothing for him to say. With weak bodies, they hold one another.

With bound blood, they light into each other. A fate sealed with the brand of a transcended love's kiss.

* * *

for her:

the color of his vision,

the nerves of his spine,

the roof of his mouth,

the holy melody,

the mornings

she lays

by his side;

her perfume.


End file.
